


When Blair's away.

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M, Other: See Story Notes, Plot What Plot, Series: The Spirit Guides who Came to Dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:57:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lonely Sentinel reaches out to the Spirit Guides for fun<br/>This story is a sequel to Part of a series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Blair's away.

## When Blair's away.

by Monica

Rating: Um...PG-13? 

Pairing: Jim/Blair 

Disclaimer: All things related to The Sentinel belong to PetFly and Paramount. This story is strictly for fun and not profit. 

Sequel/Series: Part of my series "The Spirit Guides who came to dinner". The first story in the series is "Strange Rescue". After that, the stories don't follow any particular order....yet. 

Thanks to Alex for kindly hosting my stories on her webpage. Be sure to read her terrific stories! The site address is [www.squidge.org/~stageira/alex/index.html](http://www.squidge.org/~stageira/alex/index.html)

This is for Rogue, who requested a Spirit Guide story with the following scenario, and I quote her directly: "Jim gets drunk 'cause Blair's out of town on some sort of project and they can't be together an' he's missin' his Guide in THE worst way. The Guides have to take care of him. _wicked grin_ " 

Um, okay dear. I've tried! 

* * *

"When Blair's away..."  
by Monica  
debland2@hotmail.com 

"So, anyway, we're sitting there, right? Getting romantic. And all of a sudden he turns to me and say 'Did you know that the ancient Egyptians worshiped cats as Gods, and mummified them?' Then he goes into more details than I ever wanted to know about mummification. Jeez, where the Hell did he learn that they took the brain out through the nose?" 

Jim Ellison took another swig of beer, staring morosely at the fire. Beside him the panther snorted while the wolf yawned. 

"Yeah, yeah. I know you think the Egyptian thing is cool. The part about worshiping cats, I mean," Jim added as the panther nodded. "I don't want to even think about the other part." The cat shuddered in agreement. 

Several beers later, Jim sighed. It wasn't working. He glared at the empty can accusingly. "Can't get anything right," he muttered. The Sentinel rarely drank enough to get even partially drunk. His senses were delicate enough without alcoholic help. But he had ample reason tonight, and tonight the alcohol was not cooperating. 

Blair was gone. All right, he was only gone for three nights, but still, he was gone. Meaning that Jim was alone. It was the first time that the Sentinel and Guide had been apart for more than a day since becoming lovers. Now, Jim was alone at night in bed, growling at everyone during the day, and the only company willing to put up with him at home were the two Spirit Guides. 

He hadn't wanted Blair to go on this trip, and Blair hadn't been too thrilled either. But Simon needed someone with brains, wit, and charm to dazzle the bigwigs at a police conference. Brains were in ample supply at Major Crimes, but the charm requirement eliminated Jim, Megan, and Taggert. Rafe lost due to the wit qualification. 

That left Blair. Brains in no doubt. Wit that left people in the dust. Charm that could get the birds out of the trees. Simon gave the order and Blair packed his bags. Jim had lasted two nights only with the aid of his new favorite beer and lots of fetching games with the guides. Well, the wolf anyway. At least the panther was a good listener. 

"I miss Blair," Jim complained for about the 50th time that evening. The panther twitched his whiskers in agreement. He had to admit that he too missed the young human. And that tasty tuna casserole he made. 

Jim glanced over at the wolf. "Are you sure Blair's okay?" he asked yet again. The wolf had paid a visit to his human earlier and returned at Blair's insistence to help keep Jim stable. The canine snorted at the question. 

Blair was having a wonderful time. Police officials who had never been known to crack a smile, or even maintain a pulse, where hovering on his every word. Simon was wondering why he hadn't thought of bringing Sandburg to earlier meetings. Blair had just shooed his Spirit Guide away as he went back to the final night banquet, assuring him that he was fine. The wolf had been a bit ticked, because he'd had his eye on the buffet table, noting the presence of roast beef. He had been planning on begging a few bites from his human. 

Now, Jim snatched another can and quickly downed it. He stood for a few minutes, waiting. "Nope," he finally declared. "Not the least bit drunk." Even his senses were cooperating perfectly with no swings or zones. He proceeded to pull another can out and settled back down, hoping that there would be a decent sport game on. 

Ellison was not one for heavy drinking, but desperate times called for desperate measures. The Guide was gone, the Sentinel was lonely, the Spirit Guides were boring. Life just didn't get any lousier. 

Lonely, Jim mused. That was one way to phrase it. Another way would be to say horny. Funny, but his sex drive had never been incredibly strong, just average, he supposed. But since he and Blair had become lovers, it was insatiable. More than once his guide had collapsed on the bed (or sofa, or kitchen table, or stairs), gasping for mercy. Jim always showed him that, of course, in the most sincere way, which left Blair nearly unconscious. Still, he had never heard Blair complain much about it. 

Several hours later, Jim was ready to call it quits and return to his lonely, _empty_ bed. Just one more night, he tried to say. One more. 

He stood, and immediately noticed that the room was moving. He frowned. Wonderful. Blair was gone, he was horny, and the room was moving. Oh, this just kept getting better and better. 

The Spirit Guides had been watching the Sentinel with some concern. Efforts to get him to play catch had failed hours earlier, and he showed no interest in the late night cooking shows that held the panther in thrall. Well, get him to bed and maybe they could take off. The wolf idly wondered at the time difference of where his human was, and considered the possibility of any left over roast beef being available. 

Between them, the Guides managed to get the Sentinel up the stairs. Jim fell partially onto the bed and the wolf jumped up onto the bed and pulled the human a bit further. Jim managed to get straightened out, head on the pillows. Satisfied that the Sentinel was more or less settled, the wolf started to move away. Then Jim reached out and seized the wolf, pulling him toward him. 

"Yip!"  <Hey!>

"Hey yourself," Jim purred. 

Wolf and Sentinel wrestled for a minute, then the Sentinel won, mostly because the wolf knew that it would be frowned upon if he bit. It was tempting to be sure, but could not be acted upon. 

<What are you doing?> The panther looked over the bed's edge, curious. 

<He's...he won't let go>

<Well, don't hurt him!>

Jim smiled as he laid down, snuggling the big animal close to him. "Blair," he breathed. The smaller body beside him was warm, cuddly, a bit furry. Yep, this was his Blair. Blair was back where he belonged; beside Jim. In his bed! 

The wolf snorted. Blair? The Sentinel thought he was his human Guide? Wonderful. Just how dense was this human? And what was in that drink? Um...would have to check it out at the next opportunity. 

After several attempts to get away, all of which were thwarted, the wolf was resigned to staying where he was. Well, it could be worse. The bed _was_ nice and soft, and it was even warm. Ah...freshly washed sheets and blankets, too. This was looking better and better. Now if the Sentinel would just settle down and stop moving around him. 

Then Jim kissed him firmly on the snout, a tongue moving, and slid a hand... 

<*&^%!!>

* * *

Blair smiled as he quickly moved up the stairs to the loft. Three days at a police conference was enough to make anyone crazy. Especially when he had better things at home. Especially when he could surprise Jim with his early arrival. He had been originally schedule to not get back till later in the day, but had caught an early flight. Now he and Jim had a whole weekend to spend together. 

Entering the loft, he halfway expected to see Jim waiting for him. Surely Jim would have heard him. But there was no sign of the Sentinel. The truck was outside, so he had to be around somewhere. 

He dropped his bags after shutting the door, and took off his jacket. Turning around, he saw empty beer cans scattered around the room. Strange. Jim drank a few beers now and then, yeah, but rarely more than one or two in one sitting. And no matter how many, they were always tidily stored away, never left scattered around. He counted 6 cans before quitting. 

Cautiously now, he went up the bedroom. Okay, so Jim'd had a few beers, and hadn't put the empties away. Nothing to be freaked about. So Jim had gone insane. Nothing to be freaked about, he repeated. Hesitantly, the Guide looked around the bedroom. 

Jim was sprawled across the bed. It took a few minutes to recognize all the white _things_ that were scattered around the room, but Blair eventually identified them as feathers. The remains of the shredded pillow cases confirmed the feather diagnosis. 

Even stranger was Jim. He looked almost as if he had been punched and remained on the bed where he had fallen. Blair looked closer and saw the markings of an odd injury to Jim's jaw. Actually, it looked a bit like teeth marks. 

Weird. 

A groan came from the figure on the bed. "Hey Jim, " Blair said brightly. "Miss me?" 

"B-Blair?" It was barely a croak and one eye actually managed to open a tiny bit. 

"Yeah, that's me." 

"ohh," Jim closed his eye again, the effort too great. "Never...touch... you... again, I promise. Just...don't...hit...me," he said. 

"Hit you?" What the Hell? "Jim? Jim?" There was no response as Jim as passed out again. 

Well, Blair thought, things would get straightened out sooner or later. And what a story that would make. 

The end 


End file.
